


These Are the Days That Will Last Forever

by iknowhowyoukiss



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Captain Charming - Freeform, Captain Cobra - Freeform, Captain Cobra Swan, F/M, Pirate Family, Spoiler fic, spec fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 18:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iknowhowyoukiss/pseuds/iknowhowyoukiss
Summary: Killian hasn’t heard the full tale of what Henry’s gone through yet, has only caught bits and pieces here and there over the course of the night, and though he is eager for it, it’s neither the place nor the time. The ball is meant for reunion and celebration, and with a baby in his arms and his wife at his side, he intends to enjoy every moment he can.





	These Are the Days That Will Last Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! It's been a minute since my last tale, but with the recent spoilers of Jen and Colin filming a final Captain Swan scene making their way online, surely you must have suspected I would write a little canon compliant spec fic? :) This is straight tooth-rotting fluff and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've missed these two goobs immensely and am happy to be writing for them (and their newest addition!!!!) again :D

She stands there sharing words with their boy -- their boy who is no longer a boy, but a grown man with a life and a family of his own. He’s aged since they’ve last seen him, Killian thinks, not so much in the physical sense, but emotionally. Henry has a certain air about him now, Killian can see it in his gait, in the the set of his shoulders, and the shadows still lingering in his eyes. He wears the look of one who’s seen too much in too short a time, who’s suffered heartache and loss, but has found hope and purpose and happiness anew. Curses meant for separation will do that to a person, though, Killian knows that better than anyone. (His eyes flit briefly to his wife, in her dress of white and her hair curled loosely about her shoulders, and even after all this time, his heart still twinges at the memories of all the ways they’ve been torn apart.)

 

He hasn’t heard the full tale of what Henry’s gone through yet, has only caught bits and pieces here and there over the course of the night, and though he is eager for it, it’s neither the place nor the time. The ball is meant for reunion and celebration, and he trusts that later, Henry will seek him out as he always had when he’d been a growing lad in need of an ear and fatherly conversation. Perhaps even with a bottle of rum or tankards of ale in place of the hot chocolate and tea that had always been customary for them in his youth. One can always hope.

 

His gaze shifts back to Emma, as it so often does, and the child leaning back against her. Their granddaughter, Lucy, is a sprightly lass no older than Henry’s age when he himself had embarked on his first curse-breaking adventure. He imagines she’s had a rough go of it, having been at the center of this curse much like her father had been with Emma’s, but she is as bubbly and charming as ever, and it pleases him that what’s transpired in his and Emma’s absence has not darkened her spirits or tainted the beauty and magic of her young world one bit. In fact, Lucy appears perfectly content to be where she is, surrounded by love and family, tucked safely in the circle of her grandmother’s arms. That thought alone is enough to make him smile twice over, understanding that feeling quite well himself.

 

She watches with attentive, intelligent eyes while the two adults exchange words over her head and he knows with absolute certainty that Henry and Ella will have their hands full as she matures into womanhood. He glances down at the baby sitting atop his gently bouncing knee, his heart swelling immeasurably while she babbles to herself and plays with his hook. Her little fingers grasp at the special pink rubber protector covering the tip -- it’s something he implored the fairies to fashion, more for his peace of mind than anyone else’s -- and when his daughter tires of it, she curls her hands around the curve of his hook instead, attempting to pull it straight off the brace. She could do so with nothing more than a thought if she wished, having inherited far more than just Emma’s blonde hair and the adorable dent in her chin, and instinctively he knows that he and Emma will too have a hell of a time raising their own little one. 

 

Unable to resist, he nuzzles at her cheek and blows raspberry kisses until she turns her sweet cherub face towards him. They call her Hope, and her one-tooth grin and delighted blue eyes are too much for his small heart to bear, so he leans down again to kiss the tip of her nose as well. She makes a face at that, hand reaching up to try to grab his nose, but Killian knows this game well and tilts his head just enough so that his scruffy chin sits in Hope’s tiny palm. He moves back and forth, tickling her with his beard until she squeals with laughter and tugs her hand away. She repeats the gesture, wanting him to do it again, and Killian is, of course, happy to oblige.

 

When next he looks up, he sees Henry rest his hands on his legs, leaning forward so that he is at eye-level with Lucy. He says something to her that has her tipping her head back towards her grandmother. She beams and Emma smiles in turn, cupping Lucy’s chin in her hand and bending down to brush a kiss to her forehead. Lucy pulls away after that, waving at them both before weaving in and out of the crowd on the dancefloor and greeting everyone by name as she goes. She stops at a nearby table, climbing into a chair and reaching over to pull a small flowerbud from the centerpiece in the middle, before hopping down and making her way over to where Killian and his daughter sit.

 

Lucy has a smile for him too and slides right into his space without any hesitation to wrap her arms around his neck and give him a quick squeeze. He feels the peck of her lips against his cheek and the grin he has for her is one he reserves especially for her.

 

“Hi, Gramps!” she says cheerfully.

 

“Hello, sweetheart,” he replies.

 

She leans down then, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of the baby’s head. Lucy giggles when his daughter squeals excitedly and begins to wave her tiny hands and arms about. Killian’s face aches from the width of his smile watching the two of them, and he runs his hand affectionately down Lucy’s back. She holds out the flower she had acquired to the baby, who is more than happy to have something new to play with. He recognizes it immediately as a Middlemist bloom, and it’s his fatherly instincts alone that keep Hope from shoving it straight into her mouth, his hand closing around her little wrist and keeping a firm grip.

 

Lucy, meanwhile, gives him an expectant look, her pretty brown eyes dancing with mischief, and the corners of his mouth twitch. He pauses a beat, delighting in their shared secret before reaching into his coat pocket and producing an Apollo bar for her. It’s her favorite treat from their world and he has the fleeting thought that she is Emma’s granddaughter through and through. 

 

“Your payment,” he says with a wink. “As discussed. You remember?”

 

With an exuberant nod, the bar is tucked away into the folds of her gown for safekeeping and Lucy takes off with an extra bit of pep in her step, calling for her great-grandfather, David. Killian’s gaze follow her like a hawk, eagerly awaiting the exchange about to take place.

 

“What are you smirking about?”

 

Emma’s voice draws his attention away but it’s her smile that steals his breath. She looks radiant like this, against a backdrop of stone and mortar, illuminated by torches and candlelight, wearing a bell-shaped gown, but then again, she always has. Whether in Misthaven or Camelot or here in this new world, Emma Swan-Jones looks just as at home in enchanted realms as she does when she’s in the Land Without Magic. She would beg to differ, of course, but Killian knows better. It’s in her blood, after all -- magic and fairytales and titles by birth that she still occasionally brushes off with a crinkle of her nose and a roll of her eyes (Princess, Savior, Product of True Love).

 

But if he’s to be honest, he much prefers her other titles anyway: Sheriff, wife,  _ mother _ .

 

As if on cue, their daughter begins to squirm in his hold, chattering loudly at the sight of her mother, and holding her arms out towards her. He has the complete and utter pleasure of watching Emma’s face light up, her grin so bright, it rivals the massive chandeliers hanging overhead. She draws Hope from his hold, settling her on her hip with practiced ease, all the while cooing and nuzzling and pressing kisses to her irresistible cheeks. His chest tightens in the most exquisite way, and it’s a sight Killian’s certain he’ll never tire of. 

 

Emma’s laughter is soft and happy as she sways smoothly from foot to foot. “Hi baby,” she murmurs. “Are you having fun at your first ball?”

 

“How’s our lad?” he asks gently.

 

“Good,” she replies, not quite curt but a near thing. There’s a pause at the end of her breath, like she wishes to say more but settles for, “He’s great,” instead.

 

Killian hums quietly, watching Emma with discerning eyes. “And how’s his mother?”

 

She eases down into his now vacant lap with a hefty sigh and his arm tightens reflexively around her while he rests his hand over her knee. “I know there was nothing we could have done, not when we didn’t even  _ know _ about the curse, but…I don’t know. I just wish we could have been there, to help somehow or...something.”

 

“I know,” he starts, giving her knee a squeeze. “And sometimes, no matter what our minds may reason, it can never erase the fierce desire to come to the aid of those we love when they need it most. You’re his mother, Swan. You’ll always want him to be safe and happy, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Henry knows that we would have been there in a heartbeat if he had called.”

 

Emma leans against him with another heavy breath, the side of her head bumping lightly against his nose, and he takes the opportunity to kiss gently at her temple. Their hearts are uneasy still, but healing, and that’s all that matters. 

 

Hope gurgles then, drawing Emma’s attention away as she continues to babble to herself. Killian watches her clap her hands together and laugh, amused at her own antics. Her expressive little face scrunches in thought when she promptly remembers the bloom in her hand. She holds it out to show Emma, and while the noises she makes are complete gibberish, Emma still reacts appropriately, a smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.

 

“Oh, a flower, I know, it’s very pretty. Did Lucy give it to you?” she wonders.

 

Killian sees it coming the same moment his wife does, and this time it’s Emma’s instincts that have her plucking the flower from the baby’s hand before she can attempt to put it in her mouth again.

 

“Oh no, little one, that’s not for eating,” she tells her, voice gentle despite the undercurrent of exasperation that colors it. “Boy, am I going to be glad when we’re through this teething stage.”

 

He chuckles at her, briefly touching his lips to her shoulder in a gesture meant to soothe. “I’m afraid we’ve got quite a bit of time yet,” he replies, eyeing the lone tooth in their daughter’s mouth. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

 

Emma doesn’t reply, merely looks up at him for a moment before leaning forward to press a kiss to his mouth. When she pulls away, he notes that his wife’s expression has gone incredibly soft.

 

“What?” he wonders, eyes searching her face.

 

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, but that singular word is weighted. 

 

“That smile doesn’t look like nothing,” he comments. “That smile looks like I’ve pleased my wife and as I would be a foolish man not to do so again, it’s only right I inquire as to why.”

 

“You’re just...really good at this parenting thing,” she shrugs, sliding the flower into the buttonhole of his lapel and fiddling with it until she’s satisfied with how it lays. “And this husband-ing thing.”

 

This time, it is he that leans forward to kiss her, happy and so full of love, and hard enough to make her giggle against his mouth. She keeps close when he’s finished, resting her forehead to his, and he wishes he could bottle this moment to keep forever. 

 

It’s in the space between their breaths does he realize the string quartet providing the musical selection for the evening has eased into a new song, and the corners of his mouth tick up at the familiar three-quarter time of the waltz.

 

“Might I entice my two favorite girls for a dance?”  

 

“Mmmm…” Emma scrunches her nose, much in the way Hope had earlier, appearing to be deep in thought. “Perhaps. One of us might need a little more convincing than the other, though.”

 

“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles.

 

“Yup,” she replies, popping the ‘p’ playfully while bouncing the baby on her knee. “Lots and lots of convincing.”

 

“What if I take the next two changings?”

 

Emma purses her lips, contemplating his terms before shrugging her shoulders, decidedly unimpressed by his offer. “Eh.”

 

“‘ _ Eh _ ?’ Alright then, how about...the rest of the night?”

 

“And tomorrow,” she answers, not missing a beat.

 

“ _ And tomorrow? _ ” he winces, mock-appalled. 

 

“Take it or leave it, pal,” she laughs.

 

The dimples that deepen in her cheeks when she grins make him want to kiss each in turn, instead he traces his fingertip over first one then the other. “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Jones,” he sighs with an overdramatic huff.

 

“My husband  _ is _ a pirate,” she reminds him, moving from his lap with another kiss for their daughter. “What do you say?” She asks, raising Hope over her head to make her giggle. “You want to have a dance with Daddy?”

 

“Da-da-da-da- _ da! _ ” She exclaims before holding her arms out for Killian. 

 

It’s a familiar routine for them and the exchange happens seamlessly with Killian taking her into his arms and draping his free arm around Emma’s shoulders as he guides them away from their table. She turns slightly after he’s found a quiet little spot for them just on the edge of the dance floor, tucking herself against him and placing her head in the crook of his neck while she reaches up and settles her hand over the baby’s back, linking the three of them.

 

Hope knows this dance well, and whether it’s exhaustion from the excitement of the day or simply out of habit, she rests her own head on her father’s chest, blinking owlishly at Emma and grasping tightly onto the charms on the end of his necklace when Killian begins to sway them gently to time.

 

“She’s going to fall asleep,” Emma tells him. 

 

“Aye,” he agrees, pressing his smile to the top of Hope’s head. “But that’s the idea, isn’t it Cygnet?”

 

There’s a flurry of dark hair and rustling skirts as Lucy suddenly appears out of nowhere, jumping in excited circles around them. “Gramps, Gramps,  _ Gramps _ !” She is breathless and near doubled-over in laughter. “You missed it!” 

 

“Missed what?” Emma asks, glancing between grandfather and granddaughter, but her question is ignored with another peal of laughter from Lucy.

 

“Did he turn red then?” Killian wonders.

 

“Like a tomato!”

 

“Hah! And what did he say?”

 

Lucy opens her mouth to tell him precisely what Dave had to say about the observation Killian had her make to him, but she is immediately cut off by the man in question himself.

 

“My hair is  _ not _ turning  _ gray _ ,” he hisses, voice hushed as he dances by with Snow. “It’s  _ silver _ , there’s a difference-”

 

“ _ David _ ,” Snow warns.

 

“ _ Killian,  _ for god’s sake,” Emma sighs.

 

“And I’m not the one throwing out my back trying to move a couch,” David continues, despite the way Snow has hijacked the lead from him and is half dancing, half dragging him away. “ _ Whose age is starting to catch up with them now, hmm? _ ”

 

Lucy bounces after her great grandparents, chortling something about ‘silver-gray, silver-gray’ in a sing-song voice, and Killian turns to give Emma an incredulous look.

 

“You told him I threw my back out  _ trying to move the couch _ ?”

 

“Well, what did you want me to do,  _ Killian _ ,” she lowers her own voice then, glancing around and being mindful of all the ears pretending not to be tuned into their conversation, particularly the little ones right in front of her, and she covers Hope’s ear that isn’t pressed to Killian’s chest, just for good measure, “I wasn’t going to tell him the injury was because of what we were _ doing  _ on the couch!”

 

“Now he thinks I can’t move a bloody couch!”

 

“You know, he’s not the only one getting a little gray in his hair-”

 

“Significantly more, you mean-”

 

“ _ My point is _ , you and Dad are just going to have to come to terms with the fact that neither of you are getting any younger and-”

 

“How do you feel about moving to Neverland?” He deadpans.

 

She shakes her head, smile endlessly amused. “We are not moving to Neverland.”

 

“Why not? Pan and the Lost Boys no longer inhabit the island and-”

 

“And the nights are endless and it’s unbearably hot and Dreamshade grows like weeds. Plus we don’t exactly have the happiest of memories from there-”

 

“I wouldn’t say that, love...we had our first kiss in Neverland,” he reminds her with a smirk and a quirk of his brow. (And  _ oh _ , what a kiss it was.)

 

She gives him that look, that exasperated half-smirk that makes him want to relive that particular first in their relationship with her over and over again. 

 

“We can’t move to Neverland, Killian. Don’t you want to see Hope take her first steps and say full sentences and learn how to swordfight and sail the Jolly Roger and...I don’t know, go to prom-”

 

“‘Prom? _ ’  _ Wha- hold on a minute, like with a ‘ _ date _ ?’” Emma rolls her eyes at the tone in his voice but he cares not. “No one wants to see that, we’re leaving the moment we get back.” He feels her fingers dig into his side, precisely where she knows he can’t keep his composure to save his life and he jerks against her while trying to stifle his laughter. “You’re going to disturb the baby, Swan!” 

 

A clap to his shoulder startles him and pulls his focus from Emma, and when Killian turns his head, a boy who is no longer a boy is smiling at him. “Either of you see that little monster I call my offspring anywhere?”

 

“I’d try that way.” Emma angles her head in the direction that Lucy went, but Henry is too distracted by the baby in Killian’s arms.

 

“Hi,” he coos, tickling under her chin and grinning when she gives him a shy smile. “Hi there. Gosh, you’re really cute, aren’t you? I fully expect you to save me a cuddle later.”

 

“Looking forward to it,” Killian replies cheekily.

 

“I meant my sister, but you and I are going to exchange words later about you using my daughter to terrorize my grandfather over his significantly graying hair,” Henry says with a wink and another affectionate slap to Killian’s back. “Among other things.”

 

Their eyes meet and there’s a moment where it feels as though a lifetime’s worth of unspoken words pass between them, and the softness of Killian’s expression matches the softness of his voice when he says, “I look forward to it, m’boy.”

 

With a wave for Hope and a touch to Emma’s arm, Henry departs, and Killian wastes no time turning to his wife, his brows arched high as he gives her smug look. ‘ _ Significantly _ ,’ he mouths, but Emma merely shakes her head at him.

 

They are caught by surprise when they find themselves suddenly enveloped in a bone crushing hug. It’s Henry, again, and Killian sighs softly, tucking his chin over the lad’s shoulder. This -- these three people -- this is the core of his world, and he wants nothing more than to bottle this moment too.

 

Henry is gone as quickly as he came, but he turns back a final time when he’s just a few feet away, to smile and wave at them once more. Emma sighs again, tipping her head back to his shoulder and Killian understands the feeling well. Standing there watching him go -- with the same boyish grin and the same mischievous look in his eyes -- it’s as if all the years melt away and they are simply looking at that exuberant child with the messy mop of brown hair from so many years ago. A boy with a heart so true and full of belief. 

 

“I was just joking you know,” he says to her after some time, his voice quiet. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

 

She presses up onto her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek -- once, twice, three times. “Me either,” she smiles.

 

He hugs her a little closer to him before he turns his head to grin at her and kiss her mouth in turn. They slip easily back into their dance with Hope, who has slipped quietly into her dreams, and a peaceful sort of calm settles over him.

 

His gaze scans across the large expanse of the ballroom, pausing briefly on Snow and David where they have ceased their dancing to exchange words with Regina and Zelena, then his boy, now twirling nonsensically in the center of the room with Ella and Lucy. He smiles knowingly when Granny and Gepetto, with eyes only for each other, are having a quiet moment in a dimly lit corner. Several of the dwarves, meanwhile, are busy chasing the Nolan boys, Neal and Leo, around the room. He catches a glimpse of Ariel’s red hair and reminds himself to spend a few minutes with her when he makes his rounds later.

 

But that’s not all. There’s Mulan and Merida at the top of the staircase, arms linked, and the Arendelle folk on the balcony with the cricket and Dr. Whale. Tink floats in and out of conversations with practiced ease while the other fairies catch up with Red and Dorothy. Even Ursula and her father are there, laughing by the dessert tables where Jasmine and Aladdin appear to be arguing over which chocolate concoction is better.

 

Their family has grown, naturally, as families are wont to do, and he isn’t entirely sure what comes next, but he doesn’t really care. He has all of this -- and most importantly, Emma at his side -- and it’s more than enough. It’s more than he could have ever hoped for.

 

_ Fin _

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. I'd love to hear what you think (aka GIVE ME ALL YOUR FEELS AND TEARS :D)! Oh, and my apologies to anyone who dislikes the name of the baby, I attempted to abstain from using it or even using my own preference for a name, but because I wanted it to be canon compliant, here we are. Just know that it pained me as much as you and while I still don't love it, I hate it a little less LOL


End file.
